Let it be Easy
by lilbluedancer
Summary: In the race to win Felicity's heart, Oliver decides the competition isn't over yet.
1. Chapter 1

For a while, after Oliver comes back (again, because clearly Oliver has a death wish, which is infuriating beyond reason), everything is normal - well, as normal as it can get when your name is Felicity Smoak.

She works with Ray during the day and spends her nights with Oliver.

It's not as strange as it sounds, she swears. She and Oliver are friends. Just friends.

They eat late dinners together; they watch Dig and Roy teach Laurel to fight. They save the city from evil, one bad guy at a time.

They touch each other but it's innocent. Mostly. His hand brushes her shoulder, her hip, occasionally the back of her neck when she's showing him something on her computer.

It's nice. It's not what she wants, not really. But she learns to be happy this way. Happy that Oliver's alive, that he's here. What she told him that night in the foundry wasn't a lie. As long as he's in her life in some way or another she's happy.

Not as happy as she could be, but that's irrelevant.

Felicity should have known that their new normal wouldn't last. It never does.

xxx

They're in her apartment watching Game of Thrones, because Oliver hasn't seen it, because Oliver hasn't seen anything decent since before the island. She's horrified by his lack of exposure to decent television, and has taken it upon herself to catch him up.

So Oliver is watching, and Felicity is trying to but Ray keeps texting her, until Oliver threatens to break her phone if she doesn't shut it off.

"Okay, okay!" Felicity says, and makes a show of turning the phone off.

"Felicity?"

"It's off, I swear!"

Oliver chuckles. "It's okay." He leans back against the couch, runs a finger around a tiny hole in the knee of her leggings. "That was Ray, right?"

"Yeah," she says softly. They don't really talk about Ray, because...well. Things are awkward enough.

"Felicity?" he says again, like he's trying to ask something but doesn't know how.

She looks down at his hand cupping her knee. Once upon a time Oliver Queen's hand on her knee would have made her faint. Now it's familiar, comforting. Something she holds onto when they've had a bad day, on nights when they don't win. The warmth of Oliver's strong hand on hers.

"Oliver?" she prompts, when he doesn't follow up with a question.

"Does he make you happy?" Oliver asks in a low voice.

The question throws her off guard. This isn't something that they talk about. It just floats between them, the missed opportunity; the knowledge that they love each other but can't be together.

The word 'happy' is supposed to be off limits.

"Yes," she answers carefully.

Oliver contemplates this. "Is it serious?"

Felicity shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

She feels a wrinkle of irritation. "I don't know. We don't talk about things like that."

"Like what?"

"Ray understands, okay? He knows that he's not my first choice." Her hand slaps over her mouth, because she certainly didn't plan on saying that. Stupid, _stupid Felicity_.

Oliver looks at her with his mouth open, like he's just as shocked as she is by what she said.

"Um." Oliver's mouth opens and shuts. "So it's not..._exclusive_?"

"Huh?"

"You and Ray. Is it exclusive?"

She doesn't even know what she and Ray are. They work together, and occasionally sleep together. They exchange flirty texts and share late boozy dinners, but is he her boyfriend? Are they in an actual relationship?

"No," she hears herself say. "It's kind of...casual." Which makes her wince. She might as well have said that they're screwing.

"Oh." Oliver nods. "Okay." He stands up from the couch so she does too.

"Hey, are you free tomorrow night?" he asks.

Felicity smiles. "My nights are reserved for you, you know that."

"Can I take you to dinner?"

"Huh?"

"You just said you're not exclusive."

"Ok_ay_?" What does that have to do with it?

"I want to take you on a date," he says plainly.

"Oliver, what the hell are you talking about?" Didn't he make it very clear after their one date from hell that they weren't going to do it again, like, _ever_?

Oliver brushes her cheek with his thumb. "I'm throwing my hat in the ring."

"I don't understand," she says dumbly.

"Felicity," Oliver says, with just a hint of frustration. "Tomorrow night. You, me, dinner, candlelight, is any of this sounding appealing to you?"

"Uh-huh," she nods, because there's something about Oliver asking her out on a date that makes her normal babbling screech to a halt.

"Good." Oliver says seriously. "Wear something nice. Actually, screw that, I'll send something over for you. Pick you up at seven?"

"Okay," she says faintly.

"Okay." Oliver leans forward and kisses her cheek. "Goodnight Felicity."

She manages to mumble something back and then he's gone, leaving her standing in the foyer with her jaw on the floor.

So much for normal.

xxx

Oliver sends a dress to her at the office. The dress is Tiffany blue, with a corseted bodice and soft floaty skirt. Felicity sighs in delight, running the fabric between her fingertips. Oliver has a lot of faults, but his taste in clothing isn't one of them.

There's a note nestled in tissue paper at the bottom of the box that reads, simply:

Looking forward to seeing this on you.  
O.Q.

"What's that?" Ray asks curiously from behind her. Felicity flinches. She didn't even hear him come in.

"Nothing," she says lamely.

"Nice dress," he says, tapping the Nieman Marcus label on the box. And then he sees the note. "From Oliver?"

"Mm-hmm," Felicity says, like it's totally normal for Oliver to send over a two thousand dollar couture dress for no reason at all.

"Why did Oliver send you a dress?" Ray asks, crinkling his nose in confusion or perhaps, distaste.

"Oh, you know Oliver," she says flippantly. "Always showing off."

"Felicity," he says. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

"No," she says calmly. "It's just a dress."

It's not the first time she lies to him, but it's the first time she feels bad about it.

xxx

Oliver picks her up at seven on the dot, resplendent in a dove grey suit and skinny black tie.

"That's a nice color on you," Oliver says gently, after her brain goes haywire when she sees him and can't manage to get actual words out, because good _god_.

Oliver in a suit is just ridiculous.

He takes Felicity to a new French restaurant that she's been dying to go to. They sit at a quiet corner table and Olive orders an absurdly priced bottle of wine with a level of confidence only a Queen could manage.

She's so nervous she's afraid she might actually throw up.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, after Oliver asks her for the third time if she's okay. "I'm just nervous."

"Because our first date went so well?" he deadpans.

"I can't believe this is happening." Felicity twists her napkin in her lap. "How is this happening?"

Oliver smiles. "I asked you and you said yes. Simple"

"I understand your _oh so elegant_ plan," Felicity retorts. "Make a grand gesture, prove your love, blah blah blah. What I don't understand is, _why_?"

"Why do I want to date you?" He looks confused.

"Why are you declaring romantic intentions toward me when you told me we couldn't be together?"

"Dig and Lyla make it work," Oliver says quietly. "Roy and Thea...not that I like it, but whatever they have, it works for them. You have Ray. And I'm..._alone_."

"Oliver," she says softly.

"I can't make you wait forever. I realize that. Felicity, I don't know if I'm the right guy for you, but I can't sit back and watch you fall in love with someone else."

Her heart constricts, because she's already in love with someone, someone who isn't Ray.

"Oliver, are you sure about this?"

"I'm not saying I'm not going to screw up. I don't have a good track record as a boyfriend. Just ask Laurel." Oliver laughs, only slightly bitter.

"Oliver, I'm not asking you to be perfect. My relationship record isn't exactly stellar either."

"I can't promise that this will work out the way I want this to," he warns her.

"How do you want this to work out?" she asks curiously.

Oliver slips his fingers through hers on top of the table and gives her a look that _wrecks _her. "You know how I feel about you," Oliver says thickly. "You have to know that."

She inhales sharply. She's worked so hard to ignore her crush on him, while at the same time getting close to him, caring for him. Falling for him.

"Maybe we should go slow?" she suggests. "Not advertise?"

Oliver looks around. "Not be seen in public eating at an exclusive restaurant?"

Felicity smiles. "I didn't say _that_."

xxx

Oliver walks her to the door.

There's an awkward second where Felicity stands in the doorway with her keys dangling in the lock. She had three glasses of wine at dinner and she's buzzed, by the wine and by Oliver, looking at her like she's something precious and rare.

"Thank you," she says eventually, remembering her manners. "I had a wonderful night."

"Me too." Oliver leans in and kisses her lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight, Felicity."

"Goodnight, Oliver."

She swoons once she's inside her apartment, sliding back against her door with what she's sure is a ridiculous grin on her face.

Oliver has feelings for her.

Oliver _admitted_ to having feelings for her.

Felicity falls asleep smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I don't know Arrow or its characters. For clarification, this is set loosely in mid-season 3, after Oliver comes back from Nanda Parbat. Please review :)  
**

The first time he kisses her (well the second time, but that's a different story) she doesn't see it coming.

It's a Sunday night and Oliver shows up at her apartment unannounced with a bag from Big Belly Burger, wearing that brown leather jacket she loves.

The first thing she says when she sees him standing there is, "I could eat you right now."

She dies a little inside and continues," I mean that," pointing to the bag. "I could eat a burger now, is what I meant, obviously. It's not like I want to eat you."

"No?" Oliver raises an eyebrow.

"Oh my god." Felicity covers her face in humiliation and Oliver chuckles.

"I think innuendo is allowed when you're dating," he says gently.

Oliver scans her up and down, and she realizes she's dressed in only plaid pajama shorts and a loose white tank top. Her hair is tied up in a messy knot and she doesn't have her usual bright lipstick on.

"So, this is what you look like when you're not working," he comments.

"Yeah," she says, doing her best to not freak out that Oliver has randomly shown up at her apartment with her favorite take-out, and she's wearing _pajamas_.

Oliver smiles warmly and cups her bare shoulder. "I like it."

They eat burgers on her couch with their feet up on the coffee table. They make a mess; Oliver smears barbecue sauce all over her cheek, making them both laugh. They both have the same anti-authority streak, a slightly childish disdain for rules.

They watch a movie that Oliver picks stretched out on the couch together. It feels so normal that after awhile she forgets it's supposed to be a date.

She's in the kitchen grabbing a pint of ice cream out of the freezer, because Oliver's demanded to know what all the fuss is about with her beloved mint chocolate chip, when she feels two hands grasp her hips.

"Hi," she says, turning in Oliver's arms to smile up at him.

He looks relaxed for once and he's beautiful like this, without so much tension in his body and a sexy little grin on his face.

He kisses her.

Oliver kisses her, and it's soft and right and perfect. He kisses her with just the right amount of want, one hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

"I thought you wanted ice cream," Felicity teases.

Oliver's jaw tightens. "I want a lot of things."

"Oliver," she says softly. "You can have anything you want. You just have to choose it."

He closes his eyes like he's in pain, and Felicity presses her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like leather and something woodsy. She wants to stay like this forever, until he finally realizes that he deserves this.

Oliver sighs and lays his cheek on the top of her head. "You make it sound like it's so easy."

She kisses him lightly and turns in his arms to get clean spoons from the silverware drawer.

"Maybe you can find a way to let it be easy," she suggests, and hands him the ice cream.

xxx 

She wakes up on a Saturday to a text from Oliver.

_Get dressed. I'm picking you up in half an hour_.

She practically vaults out of bed and into a hot shower. Is he kidding her with half an hour? Who gets ready for a date that quickly?

She blow dries her hair as fast as humanly possible and does minimal makeup, just tinted moisturizer and a swipe of coral lipstick. She's standing in front of her closet having a minor panic attack over what to wear for a date at nine in the morning when her phone beeps with a follow up text from Oliver.

_Dress casual. _

She pulls on skinny jeans that hug her ass perfectly and an aqua blue cashmere sweater. She's just pulling on her panda flats when she sees Oliver's car pull up from the window.

Oliver smiles when he sees her. "I like you in blue."

She kisses him lightly. "I know. So," she says, grasping his hand. "What are we doing today?"

"Well," Oliver says, opening the passenger door for her, "I thought that since we're dating now you should get a chance to know me."

She looks up at him, bemused. "But I do know you."

He shakes his head. "Not the Arrow, or Oliver Queen, CEO, or Ollie the playboy. Just me."

She leans her head against the window. "Hi, just me."

He laughs, and it's beautiful.

xxx

He takes her to a little coffee shop not far from the Queen Mansion.

"Tommy and I used to come here every morning before school," he tells her, setting their lattes and scones on the little table. "Sometimes we'd be hungover, or we'd be copying each other's homework. We spent a lot of time here. I love this place."

"Wait, you went to school?" she teases.

Oliver smiles. "Sometimes. I graduated high school, you know."

She takes a sip of her latte and sighs in satisfaction. "And dropped out of four Ivies. Impressive."

Oliver shakes his head, laughing. "This isn't going well, is it?"

"No, I'm sorry." She covers his hand with his. "It's just...sometimes I wonder why you're even interested in me."

"_What_?"

"It's just...you grew up with all this privilege that I didn't even know existed when I was a kid. You could have _literally _anything you wanted. If we had met - like met in a normal way, not you as the Arrow bleeding in the backseat of my car - you wouldn't have looked at me twice."

"Felicity." Oliver flips his hand to wind his fingers through hers. "If I hadn't gotten on the boat that day, do you want to know how we would have met?"

She smiles shyly. "How?"

"I would be working at Q.C., in some position my dad had gotten for me. Something I wouldn't have been remotely qualified for. I would miserable, and bored out of my mind." He shakes his head. "I probably would still be with Laurel."

He gives her a distant dreamy smile that makes her head spin. "And then one day you would have walked into the elevator, or the break room, or the cafeteria...and it would have all been over for me."

"Oh my _god_," she drawls. "No wonder they called you a playboy."

He gives her a hurt look. "You don't think I'm being genuine?"

"No," she laughs. "Of course not. It's just, _all that_, and, you know, your _face_, and the sound of your voice, it's just..."

She leans over the table and kisses him softly. "It's sweet. You're sweet."

Oliver tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Don't tell," he says seriously. "It's a secret."

"Oliver," she smiles, "don't you know? I'm wonderful at keeping secrets."

xxx

They don't tell anyone at first.

It feels too new, too fragile. At the foundry they act the same as always, and as far as Felicity can tell no ones knows the difference.

They get off on it, a little. Oliver finds ways to touch her when no one's looking, making her skin burn for more.

Sometimes he walks by her just to pause and whisper something positively _filthy_ in her ear, and walks away with his poker face firmly intact, while she blushes and sputters behind him.

Felicity starts wearing shorter skirts, and dropping pens. It makes her feel silly but the look on Oliver's face is always worth it.

It's like having a dirty little secret, and she _likes_ it. 


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I don't own Arrow or its characters. Please leave a review!**

She finds Thea in the foundry one night, sitting on a counter with her long skinny legs dangling.

"Hey," Felicity calls out, announcing herself to her.

"Hey," Thea says, looking kind of sullen, staring down at her ballet flats.

"Everything okay?" Felicity asks, taking a seat at her computer to check on the new program she's running.

"I was hoping I'd catch Ollie," Thea explains. "I don't know where he is."

"Well, he's not here," Felicity says, and grimaces. "Obviously."

Oliver's actually on the way to her apartment with a bag of Thai food but she can't tell Thea that.

"Yeah," Thea sighs. "I kind of figured that out."

"Did you need to talk to him about something?" Felicity asks tentatively.

Thea shrugs. "I just haven't seen him in awhile. He's so busy."

Felicity bites her lip in guilt, because she's pretty sure _she's _the reason Oliver is so busy.

"You know what, I'm going to go." Thea hops off the counter. "I'm sure I'll see him at home eventually."

"Thea!" Felicity calls out.

Thea stops and waits for Felicity to catch up to her. Up close Thea looks pale, with dark circles under her eyes. She looks vulnerable, and sad.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Felicity asks.

Thea shrugs. "I don't know. It's fine. Whatever." She turns on her heel and trudges up the stairs.

Felicity sighs. _Teenagers_. She pulls her phone out and dials Oliver.

"I'm at your place," he says when he picks up.

"Not anymore."

"What?"

"Go home, Oliver. Go see your sister."

"You talked to Thea?"

"She's lonely. She needs her brother."

"Okay." He sounds unsure and confused and she laughs quietly.

"It's fine, Oliver. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Felicity?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

She smiles against the phone. "You're welcome, Oliver."

xxx

He comes over the next night with a bottle of wine and within an hour he has her in her bedroom. They kiss for what feels like an eternity, Oliver's delicious heavy weight on top of her.

Oliver's kissing down her throat, moving to her collarbone, when she blurts out, "I haven't had sex in three weeks."

And then she moans and covers her face in her hands. Is her stupid brain to mouth filter going to fail her _every single time_?

Oliver rolls off her. "Felicity."

"Oh god, don't look at me," she wails.

"Felicity." He peels her fingers off her face and he's grinning at her.

"Hi," she says miserably.

Oliver rubs his mouth. "We've been dating for three weeks."

She scowls. "I know."

"Did you and Ray break up?" he asks curiously.

She shakes her head.

Oliver raises an eyebrow. "So you haven't slept with him since we started dating."

Felicity bites her lips and nods. Dating two people at the same time is one thing, but sleeping with two men simultaneously is just too much. Her life is complicated enough.

A smug smile crosses his face. "Any particular reason for that?"

"Um..." she flushes, trying to find a way to explain this without sounding like a total prude.

"Felicity," he says softly.

"It's just weird, okay?" she exclaims. "I can't have sex with one person and then go on a date with someone else, and then sleep with him, and then go back to person A. And what if one of you turns out to be way better than the other guy..." she trails off, feeling horrified at the direction her rambling is headed toward.

"So," Oliver says, running his fingers through her hair, "you're not going to sleep with either of us while you're still...seeing both of us?"

"It's not like I don't want to sleep with you," she says hurriedly. "It's just, I can't. Right now." She forces her mouth shut, waiting for him to break up with her here and now. What is wrong with her? Who turns down _Oliver Queen_?

Oliver exhales sharply. "Thank god."

"You're _happy_?"

"I don't share well," Oliver growls, and pins her down on the bed.

"Um, Oliver?"

"Yes, Felicity."

"Did you listen to a word that I just said?"

Oliver grins dangerously at her, and she feels her stomach flip. "That doesn't mean that we can't do other..._things._"

She subconsciously licks her lips. "What kind of things?"

He leans down and catches her earlobe between his teeth. ""I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

I'm going to touch you, and you're going to come for me."

She almost does, right there, because good _god_, if that isn't the hottest thing she's ever heard.

"Bet I won't even have to _try_," he adds, in the voice he uses just for her, paradoxically tender and rough at the same time.

"Someone's cocky," she manages to grit out, and Oliver gives her a feral smile.

"You have no idea."

"Jesus Christ, Oliver."

She feels feverish, like she's so turned on she might just be hallucinating this. It should be illegal for someone to be this sexy.

"Sit up," he murmurs, and she complies, and he pulls her top over her head.

He lays her back down carefully, scoots so he's right up against her. Oliver traces the cup lines of her bra before slipping a hand behind her back and undoing the clasp. He helps her shrug out of it and then she's topless in front of him.

"Damn," Oliver mutters. He hovers over her, fire burning in his eyes, and cups one breast in his hand.

She sighs as his thumbs finds her nipple, stroking until it stiffens under the pad of her finger, and switches breasts.

"Oliver," she gasps, and he smiles, kissing her chest.

"You're so beautiful," he says softly.

"Touch me," she begs.

"Someone's impatient," he teases, even as his hand slides low on her belly.

She doesn't care, she's wanted this for two years, and if he doesn't touch her soon she might die, just explode from prolonged sexual tension.

"Oliver, please," she says, her thighs clamped together.

Oliver chuckles, like this is funny, like he's not working her into a froth right now. "I've thought about it so much, what you look like when you come. What you'll feel like."

She moans, and his hands are on her skirt, pushing it up over her thighs and hips. He runs his hand down her inner thigh, watching her muscles jump under her skin. She tenses, anticipating his touch where she wants it the most.

"Felicity," he says, and she drags her eyes up to look at him.

He kisses her, all soft lips and solid pressure, and then his hand cups her and she cries into his mouth.

Oliver exhales heavily. "You're soaked." His eyes deepen to a stormy blue.

He pushes the damp lace to the side, and then his fingers are on her, parting her open for him, and her eyes rolls back.

"_Ohh_," she sighs.

He strokes her gently, nimble fingers exploring her entrance before sliding up to find her clit. He plants the heel of his palm on her pubic bone, the pressure glorious, and rubs her in torturous circles. Heat curls low in her belly and she cries out.

"God, you feel good," Oliver mutters feverishly. "So fucking wet, I knew it."

Oliver reaches down and slides one finger inside her, replacing the finger on her clit with his thumb. She rolls her hips, pressure building inside her.  
She feels like a wildfire, uncontainable, flames taking her over. And then he adds another finger.

"Oliver," she cries frantically. Her hips work rhythmically, pushing into his hand with everything she has. She's almost there already, she's going to come, and she just knows, that when she does, it's going to wreck her.

"You're going to come for me," Oliver says heatedly, his hand speeding up to keep up with her rhythm.

"Fuck," she whimpers. She's so close, she's almost there, and she wants to come, she wants it so bad.

"Come for me," Oliver growls. "Not for him. For me. Only me, understand?"

"_Yes,_" she pants, because this is all she's ever wanted. To be his.

He curls his fingers inside her and she shatters, coming on his fingers with a ragged cry.

"Oh my god," she gasps, over and over.

She feels incredible, floaty and boneless with Oliver's fingers working her down gently.

"Felicity," Oliver whispers, and when she sees the look on his face she swears, her heart stops.

He is looking at her like he's a drowning man and she is oxygen; like he's dying and she is his salvation.

He kisses her, cradling her face in his hands.

"You're incredible," he murmurs

She's never seen him like this before, with the strangest look on his face.

It's more than just content.

It's something like _peace_.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I don't own Arrow or its characters. Please leave a review!**

Oliver comes back to the foundry one night with his right hand clamped around his left shoulder.

"Who puts fucking spikes on the side of a building?" he complains.

"Awful, inconsiderate people," Felicity replies, helping him out of the hood and hanging up his bow for him.

He sits on the med table and peels off his shirt, wincing. He has a huge gash in his shoulder, blood pouring down.

"Oliver," she says nervously.

"I don't need stitches," he says tightly. "Just clean it up. Please," he adds.

She cleans the wound, muttering, "Sorry, sorry," when he hisses. She wipes up all the blood, cleans it with antiseptic and tapes down gauze over it.

"You're getting good at this," Oliver says.

"Mending the wounded?" she jokes.

Oliver looks up at her, his eyes watery with pain and something she can't quite figure out. "Taking care of me."

"Oliver," she says softly.

He leans forward and presses his forehead into her stomach, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Break up with him," he whispers. "Stay with me. Only me."

"Don't," she whispers, detaching from him.

"What does he have that I don't?" Oliver says sharply, easing off the table.

"It's not a competition," she says, frowning. "You should really sit down."

"Don't be naive, Felicity," he says, like he's disappointed in her. "Of course it's a competition."

"God, you are such a _guy_," she complains.

"Tell me," Oliver demands. "What can he offer you that I can't?"

"Well, for starters he hasn't spent the past two years rejecting me!" she snaps.

Oliver blinks. "I wasn't rejecting you."

"Sure," she snorts. "And hell is just a hot place."

"Felicity." He reaches for her but she steps out of his grasp.

"I was trying to protect you," he pleads, holding his arms out to her.

"Well, it still hurt!" she says angrily. "And you know what else hurt? When you told me you loved me and then left, and I thought you were dead!"

"Felicity, I do-"

"Don't you dare say that you love me right now! God Oliver, this, right here, is why I haven't broken up with him yet. Because he doesn't jerk me around like you do!"

"So what are you going to do? Date both of us forever?"

"You know what?" she says sharply, yanking on her coat. "I'll break up with him when I feel like I can trust you!"

"When's that going to be?" Oliver yells.

"Not anytime soon!" she shouts back, and storms out of the foundry.

xxx

She wakes in the middle of the night to Oliver climbing through her bedroom window.

"What're you doing?" she mumbles, reaching for her glasses.

"Apologizing," Oliver says, shutting the window. "If you'll let me."

"I was sleeping," she moans. She's so tired. Working all day for Ray and half the night with Oliver allows her about six hours of sleep tops on any given night. "Can you apologize in the morning?"

"Sure," he says softly, and turns back to the window.

"Where're you going?" she murmurs.

He turns to her, looking vulnerable and confused. "I thought you wanted me to go."

She sighs and pulls the covers back. "It's late. You should sleep."

He hovers by the window, like he's unsure if he's walking into a trap. "I thought you were mad at me."

"I'm too tired to be mad right now. And I'm going to need to change that in the morning anyway," she says, pointing to the bandage peeking out under the edge of his sleeve.

"You sure?" he asks softly.

"Just get in, Queen."

He pulls his v-neck over his head and shucks off his boots and jeans. He climbs into bed in just black boxer briefs, and even only half awake she's stunned all over again by his body.

"Hey," he says quietly, turning on his side to face her.

"Hi," she whispers.

"Felicity..." Oliver reaches towards her, but then drops his hand. "Thanks for letting me stay."

He looks pale and sad against her purple sheets. She walks her hand out until she finds his and links their fingers together.

"It's okay," she whispers. "Go to sleep."

"I need to tell you something first," he says.

"It's not morning yet," she frowns.

"Just this one thing," he promises. "I won't be able to sleep until I tell you."

"Okay," she says, her eyes drifting shut. "I'm listening, I promise."

His hands clenched tight around hers. "Felicity..."

"Hmm."

"Can you open your eyes please?"

With a supreme effort she manages to open them. "Okay. Go for it."

Oliver cups her cheek. "Knowing that I hurt you...it _hurts_ me. I just need you to know that. That I understand."

There's an expression on his face, like a little boy who's ashamed of something he did. Like she might change her mind and kick him out.

She slips under his arm and lays her head on his chest.

"Sleep," she whispers. "It's okay."

"I just needed to tell you," he murmurs.

"I know, Oliver."

She falls asleep to the steady reassuring beat of his heart.

xxx

In the morning she wakes up to Oliver's strong arm wrapped around her waist and his face pressed into the crook of her neck.

"Mm," she mumbles, turning under his arm and burrowing into his chest.

"Morning," Oliver says softly, rubbing slow circles on her back.

"That feels nice," she murmurs.

"I'm sorry," Oliver says. "About last night."

She kisses his Bratva tattoo. "It's okay. I forgive you."

He looks down on her in surprise. "Really?"

"Well, the whole possessive thing? It's kind of your m.o. I probably should have been prepared for that."

"Felicity," he says. "I know in the past...things have been confusing. But I'm not jerking you around this time, okay?"

She nods sleepily. "If you say so."

His hand stills on her back. "You don't believe me?"

She sighs, pushing off his chest to sit up. "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just..."

"What?" Oliver asks softly.

"Oliver, every time things get hard or something happens...you leave. Or you push me away. Are you going to tell me that if we do this, for real, that'll never happen again?"

"No," he says quietly, and she can almost hear the sound of her heart breaking.

"But Felicity?" He sits up next to her and rests his hand on her knee. "I will always, _always_ come back to you."

She swallows the lump in her throat. "I don't know if that will be enough this time, Oliver."

He nods. "I understand."

They're quiet for a minute, sitting shoulder to shoulder in bed.

"I want to pick you," she tries to explain. "It's not like I like him better than you or anything. It's just..."

Oliver squeezes her hand. "It's complicated."

"Yes," she agrees. "It is."

"For the record," he says, "I want you to pick me too."

He leans down and kisses the side of her head. "But I understand. Take all the time you need to figure it out. I'm not going anywhere."

xxx

Oliver turns their next mission into a date. Which isn't that surprising, actually. They don't have a lot of free time to actually _date_, what with all the crime fighting.

It's by far the easiest one she's ever been on. Oliver takes her to a charity gala that cost a thousand dollars a plate. Their target is there, and all she has to do is slip a tracker under the collar of his suit mid-waltz, and they can leave.

"You look ravishing, by the way," Oliver says, when he helps her into the backseat of the town car, holding the hem of her red gown so it doesn't trail on the pavement. "I meant to tell you before."

She gives him a coquettish smile. "You in a tux isn't so bad either."

They get stuck in traffic getting out of downtown Starling city, the car slowing to a stop.

"How is there this much traffic at one in the morning?" Felicity wonders, looking out at the mile of red tail lights in front of them.

"There's an accident on the bridge, Miss," their driver tells her, a man Diggle knows from Argus who was looking to make some easy cash for a night. Diggle is in a different car with Roy, tracking their target.

"Is it going to be long?" Oliver asks.

"Possibly Sir. Shall I take another route?"

"No, this is fine. We're not in a rush," Oliver says, and slides up the partition between the seats.

"Oliver?" Felicity questions.

He leans over to her and unbuckles her seatbelt.

"Hi," he says softly, and leans down to kiss her.

She smiles, one hand coming up to caress his jaw. "What are you doing?"

Oliver's eyes light up. "Passing the time."

"Oh," she whispers.

His hands go around her waist and he lifts, pulling her into his lap.

"Much better," Oliver murmurs, diving down to kiss her.

His lips are both soft and insistent, coaxing her mouth open. His tongue swirls, making absolutely depraved thoughts flash through her brain. She grips the shoulders of his suit jacket, shivering when his hand slides low on her bare back.

"You break up with him yet?" Oliver murmurs, fingers dipping to cup her ass.

"Nu-uh," she mumbles, kissing the underside of his jaw.

"Felicity," Oliver rasps, hand tightening on her ass, "you're officially torturing me."

She kisses down his throat. "And you don't think watching you work out in the foundry, shirtless no less, isn't torture?"

"That wasn't...my intention."

"Well," she whispers, "let me make it easier for you."

She slides down his lap to kneel on the floor of the car in front of him.

Oliver stares, his eyes glazed over in arousal. "What're you doing?"

She smiles. "Reciprocating."

Oliver's jaw drops a little. "You don't have to," he says, even as her hand goes to unbutton his pants.

"You've been very patient with me," she says, in a seductive voice that she swears doesn't belong to her. "All that waiting. I know that must be hard for you."

Oliver lets out a choked gasp as she slides his pants over his hips.

"Speaking of hard," she murmurs, and rests a hand on the bulge of his boxer briefs.

"Jesus Christ, Felicity," he mutters. "I thought you were going to stop torturing me."

She grins wickedly, drunk on power, and pulls down his boxer briefs. Her eyes bug out a little when he's released, already hard and just as big as she's fantasized about.

"You really weren't kidding," she says, staring at his cock.

Oliver looks down at her through heavy lidded eyes. "Nope."

She wraps her hand around him and Oliver curses loudly. He's heavy and full in her hand, her purple nail polish bright against the head of his cock. She runs her thumb over the tip and he jerks around her fingers.

She licks her hand and makes a tight fist, gliding up and down. Oliver pants above her, clearly wrestling for control. Her heart flutters in amazement that she has the power to make Oliver groan like this, clutch the edge of the seat with white knuckles.

She has him halfway to her mouth when he braces a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait," he grits out.

"What?"

"I didn't...do that to you," he explains.

She blows air on him, watches him shudder. "Look Oliver, I know that in your head you have this whole competition with Ray, and probably a play by play comparison. But you and me? We don't keep score, okay? We're better than that."

She takes him in his mouth. Oliver's eyes slam shut and she releases him, licks him with the flat of her tongue from base to tip, and then pulls him into her mouth again.

Oliver's hand drifts to her hair, fisting loose strands as she bobs up and down, sucking hard.

"Felicity," he says edgily, hand tightening in her hair.

She takes him as deep as she can, relishing the way his hips start to jerk.

"Fuck," Oliver groans. "Felicity_, Felicity_, I'm gonna-"

He comes, hot down her throat and she sucks hard, breathing through her nose until Oliver pulls on her hair, making her mouth release him with a pop.

He yanks her up by the wrists and kisses her desperately. She strokes his short hair as he comes down, breathily heavily against her cheek.

"That was..." Oliver shakes his head and then starts to laugh. "There are no words."

"Oh, I don't know about that," she says. "Hot as all hell comes to mind."

Oliver smiles softly and tucks her hair back. "Just so you know," he says, "I absolutely plan on reciprocating that."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I don't own Arrow or its characters. Please leave a review!**

When she realizes she's in love with Oliver it catches her completely by surprise.

They're watching more Game of Thrones on her couch, her head resting on his chest. Oliver is slowly stroking her hair and she's so relaxed, so content.

"You remind me of her," Oliver says, pointing to the screen.

"Mother of dragons?" she jokes.

Oliver shifts so he's looking into her eyes. "Fearless."

Her heart swells and the realization slams into her with all the subtly of a Mac truck.

She's in love with Oliver. Hopelessly, desperately in love with him.

"Felicity," he says uncertainly.

"I love you," she blurts out. "God, I'm such an idiot!"

"I don't understand," he says. "Loving me makes you an idiot?"

"No," she says, frustrated. "I'm an idiot for not picking you the minute you asked me out. What a stupid waste of time. I was always going to pick you, I was just too scared to admit it."

Oliver's face lights up. "You pick me? "

"Yes," she says, and starts to laugh. "I pick you."

Oliver jumps up off the couch and scoops her up, spinning her around the room.

"I love you," she says again.

They're both laughing and he kisses her until her head spins and she pulls away gasping.

"Does...he know yet?" Oliver questions.

She shakes her head. "Monday," she promises. "I'll tell him Monday."

Oliver holds her close, cupping the back of her head. "I love you," he whispers. "And Felicity?"

"Yeah?" She's giddy, hanging all over him.

She loves Oliver, and Oliver loves her.

Oliver gives her a smile that could light up the sky. "It was worth the wait."

xxx

Ray breaks up with her before she gets a chance to break up with him, which is unexpectedly humiliating.

He walks into her office in the middle of the day looking grim and for some stupid reason it doesn't even occur to her that they're supposed to be dating, and she hasn't seen him outside of work in almost two weeks.

"Everything okay?" she asks lightly.

He gives her a tight smile. "Do you have a minute?"

"Sure," she says brightly. "Is this about the board meeting coming up, because I swear, once we show them the prototype they're going to be over the moon-"

"Felicity."

"Yes?"

"This isn't a work matter."

"Oh," she says softly. "Okay. What's this about?"

He gives her an evaluating look. "I think you know."

"I'm sorry?" she asks tensely.

"It's my fault," he says absentmindedly.

"What's your fault?"

"This." Ray motions back and forth between them. "We never clarified what we were. I guess I can't be surprised, really. I wasn't thinking clearly. When it comes to you, I just - well. Anyway. I only have myself to blame."

"Ray, I don't understand what you're talking about," she says nervously.

"Felicity," he says, and she wonders how she missed the hurt look on his face. "You're in love with Oliver Queen."

Her mouth drops open. "Excuse me?"

Ray drops something on her desk. It's a local magazine, a tabloid, open to a Seen Out and About feature that captures Starling City's glitterati coming out of nightclubs and exclusive restaurants.

On the page is a photo of her and Oliver leaving Table Salt last night. His hand is low on her back and she's turned into him, mid laugh.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "It's not...you and I..."

"We never said we were exclusive."

"I'm sorry," she says again, because she doesn't know what else to say.

Ray looks at the photo, shooting daggers at the picture of Oliver's face. "I'm sure you are."

xxx

Oliver comes over exactly half an hour after she texts him, brandishing a paper bag.

"You said it was an emergency so I bought two," he says, pulling out containers of ice cream.

"Thanks," she sighs, taking them from him and settling in on the couch, spoon in hand.

"I take it the break up didn't go well?" Oliver asks wryly.

"Nope," she sniffs, rubbing her eyes.

"What happened?" he asks softly, hand on her knee.

"I know this is a weird question," she says, "but do you think for the next ten minutes you could listen to me as a friend and not...whatever we are?"

Oliver nods, opening up one of the pints of mint chocolate chip and handing it to her. "Sure."

"Okay," she says, sitting up. "So I started dating this guy from work. The thing was, I was kind of secretly in love with someone else, but I thought we could never be together, so I figured, why not, you know? Better than being alone for the rest of my life."

"Felicity..."

"And then the guy, the guy that I've been pining over for two years, finally asks me out. But instead of breaking up with Ray like a decent human being, I just started dating both guys because...because..."

"You were afraid I would leave you again," Oliver finishes for her. "You were trying to protect yourself from getting hurt."

Felicity nods tearfully. "And I was so selfish I didn't even think that I might be hurting someone else. But I did. I didn't even get a chance to talk to him about it first."

Oliver frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Someone took a photo of us leaving dinner last night. Ray saw it in the Starling City Daily."

"Oh no," he says softly.

"Yeah," she snorts. "So you can imagine how well that went over."

Oliver sighs. "I'm sorry."

"Don't," she shakes her head. "This is my fault. I broke the poor guy's heart because I was too chicken shit to admit what I actually wanted...who I actually wanted."

She puts the ice cream down and buries her head in her knees. "I'm a terrible person," she moans. "I hate myself."

"Hey," Oliver says roughly, pulling her to his side of the couch. "You're not a terrible person. Believe me, I would know. I've met many terrible people."

"Oliver, I treated him like he was..._expendable_. Like I could string him along while I dated you so if things didn't work out with us I had a backup. That's _disgusting_. I'm disgusting," she wails.

"You're not disgusting," Oliver says firmly. "You were confused. You were afraid I'd break your heart again."

"It doesn't make it okay," she protests.

"He'll get over it," Oliver says. "He'll understand."

"I really didn't mean to hurt him," Felicity cries. "See, this is why I don't date, because everything just gets all screwed up and people get hurt. It _sucks_."

"We're still dating, right?" Oliver asks, sounding a little worried.

"Yeah," she sighs, wiping her eyes. "Of course."

"And you're not seeing any other guys?"

"Not ever," she says. "Clearly that was the worst idea I've ever had."

"Felicity," Oliver says, and when she looks up at his face he looks nervous.

"What?" she murmurs, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"Do you think...could we...I want you to be my girlfriend," he blurts out.

A small smile creeps onto her face. "Really?"

Oliver nods seriously. "If that's okay with you."

She kisses him with wet cheeks. "It's more than okay, Oliver."

He wipes tears off her face. "You're a good person," he whispers. "You feel empathy and compassion more than anyone I know. You go out of your way to avoid hurting people. Talk to Ray. He'll understand. If he's really a good guy he'll want you to be happy."

"I'm starting to hate that word," she mumbles.

Oliver shakes his head, smiling. "I'm not," he says. "This is the happiest I've ever been."

xxx

She goes to work early the next morning and waits for Ray in his office.

"What are you doing here?" he asks stiffly, when he comes in and sees her there leaning against the desk.

"This is for you," she says hurriedly, handing him a cardboard cup of coffee.

He doesn't say thank you but he takes it with a nod.

"Can I have five minutes?" she asks. "Please?"

"Even if I say no you're going to say whatever is you came here to say anyway."

"I just want to apologize."

"You already said sorry," he says, looking off to the side.

"I know I did. I just...I wanted to explain. Oliver asked me out, and I should have told you, like immediately."

"Yeah, you should have."

She bites her lip. "But I didn't. Oliver and I...it's complicated."

Ray smiles wryly. "You love him. It's not complicated."

"I didn't realize that was how I felt at first. We have a lot of history," she explains haltingly. "I didn't think...if I had known something was going to happen with him I would have never started something with you."

Ray nods. "I didn't realize...I knew he was in your life but I wasn't aware that I was competing with him."

"It wasn't like that. I care about you, I really do, its' just that..."

"I'm not him," Ray says softly.

She nods, shame burning in her chest, when she feels a strong hand on her shoulder.

"Tell me he makes you happy," Ray says quietly.

She blinks rapidly and swallows. "He does. He makes me happy."

"Well then," he says with a shrug. "What else is there to say?"

"Are you angry?" she asks softly.

"No," he says. "Disappointed."

"I'm sorry."

"Please, Felicity," Ray says, "stop apologizing."

"I never meant to hurt you," she pleads. "I really need you to know that."

Ray cups her elbow. "I do," he says seriously. "Thank you for telling me the truth."

She leans in and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You're a good man, Ray. You deserve better than me."

He laughs quietly. "I don't know about that."

She smiles shyly. "So we're okay?"

"Yes," he says gently. "We're okay."

"Um..." She teeters in her heels, nervously fiddling with her glasses. "You're not going to fire me, are you?"

Ray chuckles. "I'm disappointed Felicity, not stupid."

"Thank you," she says. "_Thank you_, thank you, I'm so sorry again, thank you for not firing me."

"You're welcome," he says gently.

She turns to leave but hovers in the doorway when he says her name.

"You're special," Ray tells her. "I hope you know that."

She gives him a sad smile. In another world they could have been really good together.

"Thank you," she says. "I know."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I don't own Arrow or its characters. This is the last chapter (full disclosure guys, it's all smut)! Please leave a review and let me know what you think :) And keep an eye out for the new sequel to my story Weak, which will go up later this week.**

They get caught, by of all people, Roy.

They're leaving the foundry one night through Verdant. Oliver stops at the bar to say goodnight to Thea, and Felicity goes to the bathroom, and they meet back up in a dark hallway off the dance floor.

"Hi," Oliver says softly, hovering over her as she backs up into the wall.

"Hi," she whispers.

Oliver looks at her intently, eyes on her lips. She inhales sharply and he bends down, cups her jaw with those long fingers.

He kisses her and she melts against him, lips parting easily. Every kiss is like a miracle to her still - for so long she thought this could never happen. It seems so incredible, that anytime she wants, she can walk right up to him and kiss him.

He's trailing kisses down her throat, one hand sliding up her torso, when her eyes drift open.

Roy stands frozen five feet away, looking horrified.

"Oliver," she whispers, and when he keeps kissing her skin she whacks him on the arm. "Oliver!"

"What?" he frowns.

"Um..." She looks pointedly over his shoulder.

Oliver turns around and immediately heads towards Roy, who backs up a little with his hands in the air. Oliver puts a hand on his shoulder and says something that she can't hear, but judging by the look on Roy's face it's a threat.

Oliver comes back to her and wraps a hand around her wrist. "Come on."

"Where're we going?"

He gives her a heated look that makes her stumble in her heels, and he wraps an arm around her waist to steady her.

"We're going to your apartment."

xxx

As soon as they get through her front door Oliver kisses her senseless while simultaneously waking them through the apartment and into the bedroom. Oliver walks her all the way up the edge of the bed and then releases her, stepping back.

"Sit down," he says, in a voice that's soft and demanding all at once.

She complies, her legs shaking. She's thought about what he would be like in bed, if he's be as much of a control freak as he is in real life. If he'd order her around, or pull her hair. Make her say things she would never dream of saying.

Oliver stands in front of her, immobile but looking at her with laser-like focus.

"Take your top off," he instructs.

She pulls the silky polka dot blouse over her head, revealing a plum lace bra.

"That too."

She reaches behind her to unhook the clasp, shrugging the straps off her shoulder. Oliver licks his lips, and she shivers as cool air hits her breasts.

"Spread your legs," he says thickly.

"Oliver..."

"Do it," he says, his eyes hooded with arousal. "Please."

She opens her legs, leaning back to rest her elbows on the bed. He stands between her legs and then drops to his knees, kneeling in front of her.

He takes one breast in her mouth, making her gasp. He grazes her nipple with his teeth, licking and sucking until he's pulling moans from deep inside her. He switches breasts, giving it the same treatment until wetness pools between her legs and she's panting.

"Lay down," he says, and she leans back, hair fanning out around her face and her legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

Oliver unzips her pink skirt and she raises her hips so he can pulls it down, dragging her panties down with it. She raises her head off the mattress to see him hook his hands behind her knees and place her legs over his shoulders, a predatory expression on his face.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, her voice trembling.

"Reciprocating," he murmurs, turning his head to kiss her inner thigh.

"Oh," she says breathily, heart pounding in her chest.

He parts her with one hand and then stops, just to look at her exposed to him.

"You're perfect," he says hoarsely, and then his mouth is on her.

She cries out as his tongue hits her flesh, swiping up to lick her with the flat of his tongue. Her fingers clutch at the bedspread as he traces wet circles on her clit, making heat spiral up her body.

He pulls it into his mouth and sucks. He nibbles at her clit with his teeth, not enough to hurt but enough to make her entire center throb.

"Oh my _god_," she moans, lifting her head and reaching down to run her fingers through his hair.

The image of Oliver's head nestled between her thighs makes her almost come on the spot. She feels like she might faint, nerves and desire swirling in a torturous wave of arousal.

She's making these little uncontrollable moans that sound absolutely _obscene _when he puts two fingers inside her.

"_Ohhh_," she sighs deeply, as the combination of his tongue swirling over her and his fingers inside her makes the soles of her feet tingle, a warm rush of energy flooding her veins.

Her hips start to buck, something incredible building inside her until it's almost unbearable, like she might die if she doesn't come soon.

"Oliver," she starts to babble, "Oliver, I need..._ah_, please, please, holy shit, oh _fuck_, I think I'm gonna-" 

She comes with a scream, her back bowing off the bed. He pulls out his fingers and licks her clean, working her down with his mouth until her cries quiet to slow relaxed sighs.

Oliver crawls up her body with a sly grin on his face, pulling her up with him so she's fully on the bed.

"You talk when you come," he says, eyes twinkling.

"Can't turn it off," she says weakly, unsure if she should be embarrassed.

"It's hot," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss him.

Felicity pulls at his shirt, and Oliver sits up, yanking it over his head.

"Everything," she says, waving a hand at him. "Off."

He makes quick work of getting naked, and it's only when he's kneeling between her legs, long and hard over her belly, that the nerves really kick in.

"Hey," Oliver whispers. "Look at me."

She does. His face, so often shuttered and locked, is wide open, vulnerable and shining with emotion.

"Hi," Felicity whispers, reaching up to run her hand over his cheek.

Oliver smiles. "Hi."

He leans down to kiss her and she moans into his mouth when he comes in contact with her wet core. He groans, rubbing against her, until she's panting, her fingers wrapped tightly around his biceps.

"Where're the-"

"Nightstand," she says.

Oliver plucks a foil packet out of the drawer and rolls on a condom before settling between her legs.

"Okay?" she says softly, when he lines them up but doesn't enter her.

"I keep waiting for an explosion," he explains wryly. "For a bomb to go off or the building to explode."

"The universe can't ruin it for us every time," Felicity says. "That's statistically impossible."

"Nothing's impossible."

"Improbable then."

He nods, looks down where he's poised at her entrance.

"It's okay, Oliver," she says gently. "It's your choice, remember?"

Oliver nods, one finger sneaking down to press on her clit, making her wiggle against him. "Let it be easy, right?"

"Right," she says breathlessly, and then he pushes into her.

"Fuck," Oliver curses, dropping his head to her shoulder.

Felicity strokes his neck, breathing hard as she adjusts to him, inside her. He braces his weight on his elbows and pulls out before pushing back in with a groan.

"You're so wet," he murmurs and she nods helplessly.

She's so turned on already, and now he's inside her, on top of her, and she feels so full, so complete, that for a second she's afraid she's going to cry.

He finds a slow, steady rhythm and she rocks her hips up to meet him, her breath coming in short sharp gasps as he finds a spot deep inside that makes her toes curl.

"Oliver," Felicity pants.

He grasps her wrists in one hand and pins her arms above her head. Her muscles clench around him and she cries out.

"You close?" Oliver suckles on her throat, making her moan.

"_Yes_." She's flying, Oliver pushing her higher and higher as he pounds into her.

"You're not talking," he mutters, and reaches down between her legs.

"_Ohmygod, ohmygod_," Felicity begins to chant, knees falling open.

"That's better," he growls, hand rubbing frantically as he speeds up, moving inside her at a dizzying pace.

"Oliver," she whimpers, clenching down hard. "Oh god, _ohhhh_."

"Come," he demands raggedly. "Come on, Felicity."

He does something tricky with his fingers, a little flick and roll over her clit and she explodes, her body going rigid under him as a string of _fuck yes oh god I love you I love you_ leaves her mouth.

Before she can even process what just happened he's flipping her up and around so she's kneeling in front of him, and pushes into her again.

"What are you doing to me?" she moans. She feels boneless, her nervous system stimulated to levels she had no idea were even possible.

"Making you come again." Oliver pulls gently on her hair so she's leaning back against his chest.

"I can't come again," Felicity pants, even as she cries out when he thrusts deep.

"One more," he demands. "I'll come too."

His fingers return to her clit and she sobs as wave after wave of pressure builds until she's writhing in his arms.

"_Ahhhh_, Oliver," she cries as his arm tightens around his waist. He's panting hard, his warm breath in her ear, instructing her to come for him, now.

She shrieks, a string of unintelligible syllables slipping past her lips as he shouts her name and shudders against her back.

Later, when they're naked under the covers and she's dozing with her head on his chest, he whispers, "Felicity?"

"Hmm?"

Oliver pushes hair out of her eyes and hover over her. "I don't know if this, you and me, if it'll ever be easy. If I won't always be worried about you, what it could mean to be together."

He brushes his lips over hers in a ghost of a kiss.

"I hope there's a _but_ coming," Felicity teases.

Oliver nods seriously. "But I love you. So it's worth it."

He's right. It's not always easy. But every day, it's worth it. 


End file.
